


something new (something blue)

by SunSparrow



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, Infidelity, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Slight M/F, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunSparrow/pseuds/SunSparrow
Summary: "First time here?" the man asks, though it's not really a question. Junhui's alone, a wallflower, probably looking like a nervous lamb being sent to the slaughter."I just wanted... wanted to try..." Junhui licks his suddenly dry lips."Something new?" The stranger smirks. Junhui's heart gives a small thud as he is struck by a faint feeling ofdeja vu.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 21
Kudos: 74
Collections: SVTOXIC FEST 2020





	something new (something blue)

It's been three years since Junhui married the love of his life. She's smart, kind, beautiful, and a decent cook—even though Junhui is usually relegated to cooking duty.

She's a good girl, and Junhui loves her. He loves her so much.

Now his mother and father, the in-laws, and all their friends their age who have suddenly morphed into the next generation of parents are telling him _it's time._

His wife is showing him photos of cribs, strollers, color swatches for the extra bedroom. Knitted hats, carrying bags, and onesies.

It's... a lot.

Junhui feels nothing short of overwhelmed. Hurried. Trapped.

Like he's living off borrowed time.

They're not perfect. They have their heated disputes, their cold, unwelcome silences.

Junhui can't read minds. Sometimes he wishes he could, so he would know exactly what to do to make things right. He's not perfect.

He tries to be as kind as possible. The emotional distance during their arguments hurts, even if it never lasts more than a few days. He's happy, overall. He isn't settling, at all. She's a good girl.

He thinks back to their wedding night.

They're unwinding after the stress of a long day spent entirely in uncomfortable clothes and pinching shoes, surrounded by hundreds of relatives and friends they have to impress. Finally the high-energy performance and revelry are over. She's giddy and tired. So is he. And they're in love.

Now that they have time to themselves, she excitedly points out the things that she wore to bless the wedding with good luck. She describes it as a "silly but fun" superstition her best friend brought back from her visit to America. The embarrassed half-blush on her cheeks is endearing.

She has something old: her late grandmother's antique earrings.

Something new. The dress, of course.

Something borrowed. She shows him the crinkled lacy garter on her thigh and—

"Ha, don't tell me where you borrowed that from," Junhui interrupts her with a giggly laugh, tipsy from love, the sparkling wine, his bride's lovely shining eyes. 

He kisses her, and they don't speak of luck or superstitions for the rest of the night.

* * *

"You're cheating on me, aren't you?" she says in greeting when he comes home late from work. Joking but not joking.

"I'm not." Junhui frowns. "I wouldn't."

They go through this a few times a month. Have been for years. One of her exes left her for someone else, years ago. He does his best to soothe her fears, every time. He would never leave her.

He doesn't like this joke. He says so.

It always comes back.

* * *

He came home late again—couldn't help it. The work dinner meeting ran long. He let his wife know earlier through messages, but there's not even a "read" notification by them.

He kisses his dozing wife on the cheek in greeting, accidentally waking her. He goes to shower.

"Love you," Junhui murmurs as he climbs into bed and turns off the light. There's no answer, but she's not sleeping yet. He can tell from her breathing.

Junhui's heart feels bruised. He turns and reaches out across the bed sheets but it feels like an ocean. He touches the curve of her shoulder before pulling away.

"Love you," he says again, so, so softly.

When there's no response, he pretends she didn't hear it.

In the morning he catches her in the shower and says it three times with a pouty face before she says it back.

Junhui apologizes for coming home late. He asks if she's okay buying lunch since he couldn't pack it last night like he usually does.

She tells him it's okay, kisses him, and leaves for work.

He glances at the time.

She's an hour early.

* * *

Junhui is on a business trip out of town.

He lingers in a long, bustling line outside a club. Before he left, one of his colleagues had flippantly remarked on how well-established this particular club is.

The experience is both new and somehow familiar. He's no stranger to club outings from his university days.

But now Junhui's alone. There's no one accompanying him to pass the time while waiting in line. And this time, there are mostly men.

He finds he's constantly glancing around, always askance, not wanting to be caught blatantly staring—

"ID, sir?" Junhui fumbles with his card before handing it to the bouncer whose name tag says Seungcheol.

Seungcheol gives the ID card a passing glance and nods. "First time?" he says understandingly. Junhui swallows and nods, unwilling to raise his voice over the ruckus of the other patrons still waiting in line and talking to their friends.

"Have fun." The bouncer waves him in casually and Junhui suddenly finds himself at the edge of a giant dance floor with colorful strobe lights and pounding music. Deeper into the club, there are men dancing on raised platforms, shirtless. Junhui's not sure if they're paid staff or patrons who love the spotlight.

Junhui doesn't know how to ask for what he wants. Doesn't know how or where to start. There are so many bodies grinding on each other, sweat and glitter everywhere. He feels hot, staring at the male dancers, in leather, in studs, in see-through mesh.

Junhui weaves through the crowd to the bar. He is nervous, unsure, but he goes ahead and gets something to sip on, something easy. Cranberry vodka. Why not, he thinks. It's overpriced but not watered down. He tips the bartender whose tag says Soonyoung.

Afterward, Junhui makes his way to the edge of the room, just watching. It's quieter here; he wouldn't need to scream his throat hoarse over the music if someone talked to him.

The glass in his hands is perspiring. He drinks it down halfway. He sips slowly at the rest of it so that he still has something to do with his hands.

It's not long before someone approaches him, dressed up in a suit jacket and polished wingtip shoes. He looks older and...

Nice.

But _nice_ isn't what Junhui wants tonight. 

Flattered, Junhui smiles apologetically and shakes his head. The man dips his head respectfully and moves on.

Soon he's out of drink to sip. He puts the empty glass down on the nearest surface, hoping he doesn't look too awkward and uncomfortable. Like he doesn't belong.

Someone else moves into his field of view. Tall, lanky. Studded white leather jacket with black sleeves. Dark, intense eyes and sharp features, like a wolf. 

This man looks like he could eat him alive.

"Hey," he sees the man's lips move as he comes closer, creating an intimate bubble between the two of them.

"Hi," Junhui replies, eyes wide.

The other man looks pleased with his response for some reason. "What's your name?"

"I'm Jun," he stutters a little. His throat feels tight. This man in front of him is perfectly wild and beautiful. Strange and feral.

Junhui should be scared of the fact that he isn't scared at all.

"First time here?" the man asks, though it's not really a question. Junhui's alone, a wallflower, probably looking like a nervous lamb being sent to the slaughter.

"I just wanted... wanted to try..." Junhui licks his suddenly dry lips.

"Something new?" The stranger smirks. Junhui's heart gives a small thud as he is struck by a faint feeling of _deja vu._

"Yeah," Junhui breathes.

The stranger leans in and shouts in his ear over the music. "You can call me Wonwoo. Come on." Wonwoo grabs his hand, tugs him. His grip is warm and sure.

Junhui follows, eyes flicking down Wonwoo's lithely muscled body while his back is turned. Not bad at all, Junhui thinks, then immediately feels embarrassed for thinking it.

Wonwoo looks back and finds him staring. He smirks, amused. Junhui flushes red, then glances away. He didn't even realize when they made it to the middle of the dance floor.

"Distracted already? I'll fix that." Wonwoo pulls him close and starts rolling his body against him, purposefully pushing himself up against Junhui and Junhui feels like he might explode from the heat that surges through him.

It wouldn't be a bad way to go, he thinks.

* * *

"Jun," Wonwoo whispers, what feels like minutes later. But Junhui and Wonwoo are both drenched with sweat, moving to the music, learning each other's bodies. Junhui feels his name more than he hears it, Wonwoo's lips caressing his ear gently before tugging on the lobe with his teeth, sending a startled but pleasurable jolt through Junhui's body. Wonwoo bows his head to start sucking a garden of flowering bruises into Junhui's neck, his mouth hot, wet, and feeling so unimaginably _good._ His arms are tightly wrapped around Junhui, as though Junhui could ever want to be anywhere else right now.

He's painfully aroused, so Junhui rolls his body against Wonwoo _hard,_ pushing his hips into Wonwoo's so that their erections grind together - he hears a long, satisfying groan against his ear. Lust, dark and delicious, sears down Junhui's spine, his cock twitching almost painfully in the confines of his tight jeans.

Junhui can't help but moan Wonwoo's name, his voice embarrassingly loud to his own ears despite the pounding music.

Something that's wound tightly in Wonwoo must snap at the sound of Junhui's pleasure because he bites out in a rough voice, "Come on," and practically drags Junhui off the dance floor by the wrist.

Wonwoo guides Junhui down a veritable maze of corridors, all lit with colourful bulbs that cast stained-glass shadows over Wonwoo's face. He's so beautiful that Junhui is entranced, so much so that he doesn't expect it when Wonwoo comes to a sudden stop, Junhui colliding with his back. 

"Here," Wonwoo murmurs, and crowds Junhui against the wall before he can say anything. With a soft whimper, Junhui arches up against him reflexively, seeking the heat and friction of Wonwoo's body.

Wonwoo's eyes are burning black with desire, pupils completely blown, and Junhui feels like he's prey about to be consumed. "You're so fucking sexy," he says in a low voice before claiming Junhui's lips in a fierce kiss. At some point, he insinuates his knee between Junhui's, so that with every thrust of his hips, his thigh unrelentingly rubs up against Junhui's cock.

Wonwoo's tongue is in his mouth, his soft lips dominating, demanding, devouring; Junhui does his best to give as good as he gets, enticingly moving his lips against Wonwoo's. He occasionally teases with a flick of his tongue over Wonwoo's lower lip, which Wonwoo likes a lot judging by the growing intensity of his grinding.

Junhui runs his hands needfully down Wonwoo's chest, moaning shamelessly into the other man's mouth as his hands meet Wonwoo's belt. "Please," Junhui whispers, tearing his lips away from Wonwoo's to take a breath and settle his racing heart.

"Please what?" Wonwoo pants, his breath mingling with Junhui's. For a few moments, Junhui can't break away from Wonwoo's gaze, mesmerized by the pure, wanton need he sees in his eyes.

"Let me..." Junhui trails off, suddenly blushing and looking down pointedly at where his hands are gripping Wonwoo's belt buckle.

When he glances up again, Wonwoo's smirking, and he didn't think he could get any harder, but it's so damn hot when Wonwoo's this sensual, this confident. "Say it, Jun. I want to hear you say what you want. Beg for it, sweetheart," he purrs, running the pad of his thumb teasingly over Junhui's bottom lip.

Junhui lets out a small, high-pitched whine and blushes hard, but he's so turned on that he doesn't hesitate to beg, stuttering a little with the weight of how much he wants this. "I want to s-suck you off, Wonwoo. I want to suck you until you come in m-my mouth. Please. Please."

With a low growl, Wonwoo hastily grips Junhui's shoulders and, in one dizzying motion, reverses their positions so that Wonwoo is now leaning back against the wall, waiting with legs spread shoulder-width apart. Junhui groans at how damned good Wonwoo looks right now, his lust-darkened gaze knowing and utterly dominant.

Junhui's never done this before, but he knows he wants to. With Wonwoo's steady pressure on his shoulders, he sinks to his knees, slowly undoing Wonwoo's belt and jeans. There's a wet spot on the front of the other man's underwear, evidence of his excitement; Junhui immediately places his mouth against it, tracing his lips over the hard bulge of Wonwoo's erection, lapping at it with his tongue until it grows practically soaked with saliva and pre-come.

His jeans are so fucking tight, so he reaches down and unzips himself too, palming his own cock through the fabric of his underwear and whining softly at the sensation.

His activity doesn't escape Wonwoo's notice, though to be honest, he didn't want it to.

"Naughty Junnie," Wonwoo scolds him in a harsh but strained voice. Junhui moans pathetically, finally hooking his fingers into Wonwoo's boxers and pulling them down to reveal his erection.

He immediately begins drooling at the sight. Wonwoo's cock is long, and a bit thicker than expected for such a slender man. At the tip, the head is darker and flushed, gleaming with pre-come smeared all over it. Junhui grasps it at the base gently, reverently, his lips slightly parted with his soft, needful panting.

"Jun..." Hands comb through and grip his hair, so gentle. Junhui looks up, hoping to watch every shift in emotion, every flicker of pleasure crossing Wonwoo's face when he finally takes him into his mouth. Wonwoo is staring down at him, as though mesmerized by the way the petals of Junhui's lips part in a teasing display.

Without breaking their shared gaze, Junhui tastes the soft skin of Wonwoo's cock, licking and suckling gently from the base upward. He enjoys the way the other man's jaw drops in pleasure as Junhui flicks his tongue in tentative licks over the head, then carefully swirls his tongue around it. Wonwoo already looks absolutely wrecked and Junhui hasn't even really started, and it's so fucking hot that Junhui can barely stand it.

With a desperate, broken moan, he finally, finally takes Wonwoo in and sucks. He feels heavy, girthy on Junhui's tongue. Wonwoo groans, thrusting forward a little as though trying to hold himself back. Junhui thinks of what he likes, what he wants, what he's been too shy to ask for. He dives down on Wonwoo's cock, inwardly wincing as he feels his teeth graze over the sensitive flesh, and Wonwoo's grip on his hair tightens as he makes a wounded sound like he's been punched in the gut.

"Keep going, yeah," Wonwoo is panting. Junhui strokes the rest of Wonwoo's length that he can't fit in his mouth, rolling his tongue around the head over and over. He tries to remember to keep the suction as steady as possible, and before long, Wonwoo is guiding the rhythm of his bobbing head faster and faster.

"Gonna—" Wonwoo grunts, and Junhui sucks harder at the tip, concentrating all his attention there. "Oh _fuck,"_ he says, and Junhui tastes the come spilling into his mouth. He sucks Wonwoo through his orgasm, then finally pulls off, opening his mouth to show the come inside before swallowing.

Wonwoo's gaze is dark as he pulls Junhui to his feet and cradles him against his body. Wonwoo's thumb smears over his bottom lip, smudging the tint. "Perfect," Wonwoo whispers, like he didn't mean to say it.

Junhui whines loud and high, shoving his hips into Wonwoo's as his cock twitches in his pants. He _wants._

Wonwoo smiles. "Thanks for the first round, baby," he says almost gently, "Means I can take you apart even more slowly later."

"Later?" Junhui asks, dismayed. He wants to come _now._

"Later, as in, as soon as we get to a bed," Wonwoo growls, zipping up his pants.

 _"Fuck,"_ Junhui says emphatically. "Your place or mine?"

* * *

Junhui wakes, groggy, in a hotel room he thankfully recognizes as his own. He's sore, and it's an unfamiliar kind of soreness. Like he's used muscles he's forgotten about, ones that haven't been used in a very long time.

If ever.

The space beside him is empty, the sheets a mess. Wonwoo's shoes are gone, so.

He must be gone, too.

Junhui stretches, wincing. A hot shower will probably do wonders for him.

As the scalding water pounds onto his head and chest, Junhui feels... okay.

Panic hasn't set in like he worried it would. After... after doing this.

He's going back home today, his plane flight scheduled for the afternoon.

After he gets out of the shower, it's only then he notices the phone number, thinly scrawled in blue on the notepad by the lamp.

 _Jeon Wonwoo,_ it says underneath.

Junhui's mouth tilts in a slight smile, somehow amused by the fact he didn't even know the man's last name until now.

Maybe he's sick for it.

Junhui leaves the name, the number behind.

He slips on his wedding band.

Convinces himself that this is enough. 

It has to be.

* * *

The fights between him and his wife die down.

He doesn't stay out too late with friends. Always lets her know where he is and where he plans to be. She extends the same courtesy, checking in with updates when she's out with her friends, too. Junhui appreciates it. He lets her know there's no rush, and to have fun.

And whenever she says something that cuts a bit too deep, gets a little too personal, he stays quiet.

Breathes.

Remembers that no matter what she does to him.

He has done worse.

He is not the better person.

So he always finds it in himself to forgive her.

A year passes.

He and his wife are in their living room, surrounded by balloons, streamers, gifts. She cradles their blanket-swaddled son, a hundred days old. He doesn't think he could love anyone more than sweet little Minghao, his gaze so calm and serious for his age.

Fondly, Junhui says, "Let me have him for a minute, you rest and eat." His wife gratefully nods as she passes baby Minghao to him, standing to greet some new guests at the door.

Junhui kisses Minghao's forehead, the little one cooing and babbling mildly in response. What a quiet but happy child.

"Ah! Junhui, meet my cousin!" his wife says.

Readying a gentle smile, Junhui turns to say hello—

And meets the shocked gaze of Wonwoo, lingering in the doorway, gift in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/TheSunSparrow)


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